


our gentle sin

by alongthewatchtower



Series: let me give you my life [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Original Percival Graves, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Fingering, Graves is Not a Nice Person, Grindelwald Who, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Power Imbalance, gratuitous use of the word cunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alongthewatchtower/pseuds/alongthewatchtower
Summary: The morning after his heat, Credence wakes, more comfortable than he's ever been in his life.





	

 

Credence wakes slowly, drowsy and warm, more comfortable than he’s ever been, wrapped around a pillow of something that’s hot like a furnace. With a start, he realises he’s in a bed, a proper bed, and he sits up abruptly - he’s naked! - and the events of yesterday come flooding back.

 

He, Credence Barebone, is in an opulent bedroom, in a four-poster bed like a cloud - and next to him, propped up against the pillows, is Mr. Graves - _Alpha,_  he reminds himself, scarcely believing it, reading a newspaper and smiling warmly at Credence - who was using the man’s thigh as a pillow, wrapped around it in his sleep.

 

“Good morning,” he says, not sounding like he minds.

 

“Good morning,” Credence replies in a weak voice.

 

“How are you, my dear?” he asks. “Are you sore anywhere?"

 

Credence realises abruptly that he’s not. Yesterday his wanton body was split open on his Alpha’s knot, yesterday he whined and begged and leaked sin all down his thighs, but today he doesn’t hurt at all - instead his body feels satisfied, complete. He shakes his head.

 

“Ah, such is the resilience of omega,” Graves says. “Verbal answers when I ask you something, though,” he chides, but his voice is gentle and he reaches out to pull Credence close, setting aside his newspaper and coaxing Credence to rest his head on the man’s strong shoulder. Credence nods, feeling his Alpha’s fingers start to run through his short hair.

 

“What would you like to do today, sweet boy? We have the whole world at our feet."

 

He has to think for a moment, still coming around to the fact that he won’t be going out into the cold, welted hands clutched around wicked, lying pamphlets.

 

“Um, uh - Modesty will be worried,” Credence starts tentatively. “Do you think - I mean-"

 

“Of course we can visit your sister,” Alpha reassures him. “First, though, we shall take a bath."

 

Credence thinks the sound he makes could most reliably be called a squeak. “T-together?!"

 

*

 

Graves takes his time in the bath, admiring the way the combination of hot water and new experiences brings a healthy flush to his omega’s skin, Credence sitting cradled against his chest. He washes the omega with a soft cloth and a sweet, subtle soap that doesn’t cloud his natural scent. Credence blushes and leans into the touch, and Graves can see the ruddy head of his little cock just breaking the surface of the water. Credence startles when it’s touched, but leans into that touch as well, gasping when Graves moves his other hand lower. 

 

“Got to make sure my boy is nice and clean everywhere,” he says, matter-of-fact, fingers spreading tender pussy lips open, plunging two fingers straight in, teasing around the guardian muscle that milked his knot so well last night.

 

“Your little cunt is nice and tight again, my dear,” he says. “Such a fine omega - it’ll feel so good when I knot you gaping again tonight."

 

“T-tonight?"

 

“We don’t have time for it now,” Graves says, tightening his left hand around omega cock while he thrusts three fingers of his right in and out of Credence, kissing over his bonding bite. “I know you want it, my dear, but we have things to do today.” He stabs his fingers in and out, deliberately rough, loving the way Credence’s knuckles go white where he’s gripping the side of the tub, mewling but holding so still so his alpha can play.

 

“Does that feel good, Credence?"

 

“Oh, y-yes, Alpha,” the omega gasps, shuddering at the stretch of Graves' fingers, battering at him now, his cunt gripping those fingers tight.

 

“Are you going to come for me? To clench down on my hand like a good little omega?"

 

“Yes, Alpha!” He’s desperate for it now, chasing his release, and Graves gives it to him, stroking that little bundle of nerves inside, fingertips unrelenting on his poor little o-spot, other hand tight but unmoving around his cock.

 

Credence gasps and comes, going limp against Graves’ chest, rubbing that sweet ass against Graves’ hard cock as Graves removes his fingers abruptly, leaving warm water to soothe now-tender flesh.

 

Later, he’ll teach Credence how to take his cock, but for now he’s going slow, not overwhelming the trust he’s built. “Give me your hand,” he says instead, and turns the boy around, guides the omega through giving his first ever hand job. When Graves finally growls and comes - only a small amount, as his knot hasn’t grown, not outside of an omega like he is now - Credence is studying at his own hand covered in thick alpha spend.

 

“Go on then,” Graves encourages, nudging the hand toward the boy’s mouth. “Clean yourself off."

 

Credence darts a glance at the water they’re sitting in.

 

“With your mouth, my darling,” Graves instructs. “It helps our bond grow,” he lies, “every time you take my seed like a good mate.” And Credence does want so desperately to be _good_ , so he darts his tongue out quickly to lick up the mess. His eyes widen and he licks his hand again, this time savouring the taste. “See?” Graves says. “You’re a good omega, Credence, enjoying the taste of your alpha."

 

*

 

Credence feels like a new man, walking down the street at his Alpha’s side. His clever mate waved a charm over them both, so the eyes of the no-majs in the streets simply slide right by, nobody sneering at Credence or calling him an invert - his Alpha is kind, and thoughtful, letting Credence dither over which sweet to buy for Modesty, smiling indulgently and handing him a whole dollar.

 

Credence is wearing borrowed clothes - Percival Graves’ own clothes, magicked to fit Credence! He’s clean - _inside and out_ , he thinks, remembering the way his Alpha had used strong fingers to clean his cunt this morning, making him feel good, feeding Credence his seed to make their bond stronger.

 

He feels so _different_  to the Credence of just yesterday that it’s almost shocking to arrive at the shabby little church of the New Salem Philanthropic Society, to look at the mud in the front yard, and the broken window, and Modesty lingering in the shadow of the door.

 

“Good morning, Modesty!” Credence sings out, happy. “This is Mr. Percival Graves. Alpha Graves, this is Modesty, my sister."

 

“Pleased to meet you, Modesty,” Alpha says, nodding his head politely like the gentleman he is.

 

“Why’re you back?” She asks, voice quiet but rude. Credence looks around reflexively for Ma, who’d beat her silly for that tone. Nobody appears, though, so it’s likely that Ma is out.

 

*

 

Graves disliked the hovel that the no-majs called a church when first he saw it, and he’s very glad Credence no longer lives within its walls. But his omega wanted to call, and Graves allows it, wanting his omega to make a clean break, knowing if he gives them enough time, the New Salemers will drive him away on their own, now the boy has somewhere to go.

 

“I brought you something,” Credence says, handing the girl the little bakery box. The girl’s face light’s up, and she opens it eagerly, delighted to find a sweet pastry inside.

 

She stuffs her face with it. “Where’ve you been,” she asks through a mouthful. “Did you really go wicked and move to a cathouse, like Ma said?"

 

“She - she said that?” Credence sounds heartbroken. “No, Modesty, I - I’m mated now. I found my Alpha."

 

“You’re an _invert_?"

 

Credence’s face falls. “Y-yes, I suppose I am,” he says, with a quick glance at Graves.

 

“You’re going to hell, Credence,” the awful little child tells him with a strange glee, “that’s even worse than being a witch!"

 

“Modesty?” that’s the middle child’s voice, the adopted girl who manages to contort her face to imitate the pinched hatred of Mary Lou Barebone perfectly. “Modesty, who are you talking to?"

 

“It’s me, Chastity,” Credence calls, a hopeful note in his tone.

 

His hope is dashed when the young woman with the pinched face comes to the door. “Where have you been?” she demands.

 

Chastity looks between the two of them as if slowly figuring out the truth of the situation.

 

“Credence Barebone! You wicked, wicked boy! Run off to give in to your filthy, selfish nature, to be a whore in the street! To think Ma was _worried_  about you, when you’ve gone and-"

 

“It’s Credence _Graves_ now,” the Alpha interrupts, laying a hand on Credence’s trembling shoulder, “and he is not wicked at all."

 

“Modesty, get inside,” the one named Chastity says through gritted teeth. “Now!”  She catches the little one’s arm when she moves to go past. “Where did you get that?"

 

“Credence,” the little one replies, and as she goes to take another bite of her pastry, the bitch slaps it out of the girl’s hand.

 

When it falls in the dirt she stomps on it, glaring at Credence even as she tells off the younger child. “No taking food from evil freaks and inverts!"

 

“Chastity-“ Credence starts, trembling and shocked -

 

“Don’t say my name!” the girl screeches, sounding remarkably like a harpy. “You’re no brother of mine, you wicked pervert! Go! Get out of here! I’ll be telling Ma - don’t you come back!"

 

Each word hits Credence like a blow, and Graves gives the girl a disapproving look, folding Credence into his side.

 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “Credence was simply being kind. As it seems kindness has no place in the Society of Bitterness and Resentment at Another's Happiness,” _Society of Bitter, Shrivelled Cunts,_  he translates mentally, “we won’t be returning.” He turns them away and moves swiftly to the nearest alley. The omega is silent, clutching at Graves to keep himself upright.

 

*

 

They appear in the apartment with a crack, and Graves coaxes his distraught omega to sit on the same fainting couch he made such a pretty picture on the day before.

 

“Am I wicked?” Credence asks, face open and pleading, looking up at his Alpha. _Not yet_ , Graves thinks.

 

“Of course not, my sweet boy. You’re kind, and loving - how could such an adorable little omega ever be wicked? You were born omega, Credence. It doesn’t make you evil.” _That comes later._  “There’s nothing wicked about finding love."

 

“L-love?” Credence’s big eyes are huge in his face.

 

“Of course, my darling. Love. Don’t you love me?"

 

“I do, I do!” He hurries to answer.

 

“Those without magic don’t understand us, Credence. I had thought your sisters would at least be kind, but instead they called you wicked and said hateful things.” His voice holds a regretful tone even though he couldn’t have planned the confrontation better himself. “But now you know, and you’re free, Credence. Free to live as part of a bonded pair, with nothing holding you back, to build a new life.” 

 

Graves kisses the omega sweetly, almost chaste, just a small taste of that gorgeous mouth. “I want you to be happy, my love."

 

Credence crumples into his chest, body wracked with sobs as the changes of the last two days overwhelm him. He cries out his frustration, his anger, the newfound happiness he doesn’t quite trust yet.

 

“There you go,” Graves says, running his fingers through that short hair. “Let it all out, my darling."

 

The New Salem Philanthropic Society has brought Credence low, broken him with hateful words and blows and cruelty. Percival Graves will build him up again, remake him entirely anew.

 

“Shh,” Graves soothes. “It’s alright. Alpha’s here."


End file.
